


Bland (Soulmate!Lock)

by Josephine_221B



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Soulmate AU, Tattoo, The Drama, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 17:36:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josephine_221B/pseuds/Josephine_221B
Summary: Everyone is given a tattoo with the exact word or phrase of their soulmate. Everyone’s is different and even a pair of soulmates may not have the same one. While one might have realized their connection, the other may be oblivious for forever until their moment arises.A one shot for the lovely CatSladen





	Bland (Soulmate!Lock)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CatSladen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatSladen/gifts).

> For CatSladen who correctly got my reference and has earned a one shot. She says,
> 
> “I found this prompt by senotashwolf on tumblr. I’m a sucker for a soulmate AU lol. If you could manage something like this for Sherlock and Molly that would be amazing! If not, I can think of something else no worries! :)  
Soulmate AU #2
> 
> ‘You have your soulmates words written on your skin, except they aren’t their first words. They’re the first words they say after you fall in love with them. Which means you could know your soulmate for days, months, or even years without realizing it until they say those words - the moment you realize you love them. That also means that they might have already fallen in love with you and realized you’re their soulmate, while you go on oblivious to their knowledge. They can pine for years until you finally reciprocate, or they can even pine forever if you don’t. You can be their soulmate, but someone else could be yours.’”
> 
> So, without further ado, let the oneshot begin!

Molly Hooper has always found her word boring to say the least. While her friends and family had cute paragraphs of love and quirky phrases one could only hope to get the answer to, hers remained a single word. 

You.

When she turned sixteen, she attended the tattoo parlor as every citizen is required to do. The artist then channels the energy of the universe and they tattoo the exact word or phrase that is the turning point to falling in love with your soulmate. Anyone can say the word, and your soulmate may have already said it, but you won't know until the exact moment occurs. While this was hard to believe at first, it was proven correct again and again. Rumors say you will fall to your knees, light will shoot from your eyes, or you will snog your soulmate senseless. And a pair of soulmates don't have the same word or phrase.

You. Anyone could say you. Molly knew that when her soulmate says it, it would be different but she couldn't shake the feeling that this was a whole jumble of shit. 

It wasn't until January 15th, seven years ago when Molly went towards the door of the third floor lab to lock up for the night. The air was frigid, even in a lab, and Molly was quick to finish her job for the day. A voice broke through the air like a knife through butter, startling her but calming her. 

"You're wrong, you know." Sherlock's voice was silky and smooth and utterly intoxicating. Molly gasped slightly, holding her hand over her heart in a natural way of defense she didn't even know she possessed. 

"You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you. But, you were right." His gaze trapped her in a deafening hold she couldn't bear to explain. "I'm not okay."

"Tell me what's wrong," Molly got out, impressed with herself for not stuttering. 

"Molly," God, that voice could kill a girl. And a homosexual man should the situation arise. "I think I'm going to die."

"What do you need?" There was no way in hell Molly was going to let that happen without a fight.

"If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything I think that I am, would you still want to help me?" 

"What do you need?"

Her body tensed as though she was about to approach the climax of her own novel. 

"You."

Molly's eyes had closed immediately. A hand went to her heart and another to the handle of the door to stabilize herself. She knew Sherlock was unaware of the effect it held over her as both her mental and physical self fought over how to do this. Her heart twisted as if she held the hand of her own dying Jack. Sherlock Holmes was her soulmate. Her soulmate! Molly was unaware luck was so heavily on her side and didn't know how she was ever going to tell Sherlock. For all she knew his words could be when she is eighty-three. 

"Of course, of course. I will help you."

Sherlock seemed entirely unaware of what happened to her as they crafted his plan for survival. He even bothered to mention the fact her soulmate tattoo was glowing, then commented that her soulmate must be near. Molly bit her lip over yelling at him that he is the mysterious soulmate.

...

Sherlock Holmes found himself more than irritated the night of his sixteenth birthday when he was dragged into the parlor for his soulmate tattoo. He was more pissed when he retrieved his hand from the grimy artist, with three kids, a pregnant wife and a heroin addicted girlfriend, and his words read 'I Love You.' 

How bland. How vanilla.

Even in his later ages, Sherlock found himself scoffing the words forever engraved on him. The great Sherlock Holmes, the only Consulting Detective in the world, has the most boring words. 

As Sherlock found himself at Sherrinford, trapped among the walls of iron and concrete, the idea formed more firmly in him. He began to realize who his soulmate might be as he lifted the wooden coffin lid from its resting spot against the wall. Sherlock held his tongue from the other men, regretful and even fearful of what they might say should they realize it. 

Molly Hooper was his soulmate.

Sherlock was surprised and almost shocked it wasn't Irene Adler. The universe seemed to have sent every sign during their entanglement that they were one, but as he looked into the grainy surveillance showcasing the pathologist he knew that he was false. 

He coaxed Molly into saying it, using every method he could until her shy voice became bold in demanding he say it first. Like he meant it. Sherlock knew he could not mean it. He knew he could not possess the emotions in which she desired, yet found himself eager to relay them forth. 

The words were difficult at first, strangling his throat like a web. When he repeated to her, watching the glint sparkle he knew he had won the challenge. 

Then, like the arrow to Achilles heel, Sherlock's heart collapsed as she whispered 'I Love You.' 

His hand began to glow but all he could focus on was the swirling, ghosting, and haunting storm dancing in his head. It was overwhelming and Sherlock couldn't recall the words he was saying to Eurus. 

As he went to replace the lid of the coffin, Sherlock's feelings came raging like a bull. 

How dare Eurus hurt Molly! 

How dare she force him to reveal his soulmate! 

How dare he not notice before! 

How dare he fail to protect her! 

How dare he! How dare he! How dare he! 

Sherlock knew that there were no benefits to befriending one like himself but a singular reason, he would protect them. He would stop harm from coming to them at any and every cost. And not only had he failed a friend, he failed a soulmate. 

...

Their first meeting after the call was a week later. Molly had had enough of the back and forth between her and John communicating on Sherlock's behalf. She needed some answers. She knew something was off on that call other than the obvious threat of danger. Sherlock was odd, he seemed far more tense but not socially tense. 

Molly knew that Sherlock did not fear in these situations, and she knew his only truly tenseness came in social situations. He had dropped that with her years ago and she wanted to know how and why it reappeared. 

She was unaware of the fact that Sherlock had discovered his universal bond between himself and her.

"Hello soulmate," was Sherlock's first words to her as she entered 221B Baker St. 

Her mouth dropped for a second before she sputtered out a quick, "how, how long have you known?" 

He held up a still glowing 'I Love You.' tattoo on his hand. She stared at it before realizing that those were her last words to him and must have been his realization point. 

She sat down gently, not wanting to stir anything.

"So you'll be moving into 221B next week on Wednesday, I've already picked out some lemon sheets to go on our mattress to suit you better." Sherlock spoke quickly. 

"Wha- what!?" 

"We are soulmates. We will live together so I can provide for you what I must." 

"What you must? Sherlock, I am not an object or a chore. If you don't want me, you don't get me." 

"I want you. This is just for formalities sake."

Molly smiled silently, blushing when Sherlock kissed the palm of her hand. 

"I love you."

"You."


End file.
